So lately I have been spending a lot of time alone. That's not so unusual for a writer but it's felt so weird lately since I'm not used to the town yet and I don't have any friends nearby that I can meet in Boston for drinks as I'm currently over three hours away. So since I'm either hauling boxes and other random piles of stuff or sitting at the computer and staring at my query letter for the trillionth time, I've been indulging in some comfy clothes. Old workout pants, over-sized sweatshirts, my husband's fleeces--hey, it's cold in Vermont! It's not exactly a flattering look but who cares, right? No one's going to see me!
Except for just now. I was on a roll, finding places to squirrel away some of the last piles of Stuff (my MIL is coming this weekend and I want to make the place look nice before she gets here!). I was planning to workout, too, once I had finished. But then my upstairs neighbor stopped by. With her friend. And brownies.
Reader, I was wearing old workout pants, sneakers, an old tee (seriously old, like from elementary school but luckily the style was really baggy way back then so it still fits), and a big, ugly fleece vest from my previous employer. My bangs were shoved back off my face with a headband with the rest of my hair pulled into a messy ponytail. To round it all out I was wearing my old glasses that I only keep around for working out when I'm too lazy to wear my contacts.
And then my neighbor invited me to join her, the friend, and another friend on Friday night for drinks. Reader, I am so bad at meeting people. It took me FOREVER to make friends at college. I would force myself to go to a party, look around the room, then immediately leave. Then I'd go back to my room and call my twin sister and wonder if I'd ever have any friends ever again.
I'm older and wiser now, so I said I'd love to join them. And then when they left I got so nervous I immediately shoved approximately three brownies down my throat. Fun!